


Talkative Skin

by limeta



Series: Soulmate bonds [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeta/pseuds/limeta
Summary: Hermione Granger & Lord Voldemort are soulmates. They communicate through leaving messages on their skin.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Soulmate bonds [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909717
Comments: 8
Kudos: 179





	Talkative Skin

Hermione’s got words appearing on her skin as a baby and her parents are people of science, but this is freaking them out a lot. The words that appear are from a to-do list. At least this person is organized, Dr and Dr Granger muse.

Hermione writes back to this person who’s got a lot of things to do when she’s able to hold a pen and write. She doesn’t write, really, nor can she read, but she doodles.

The writing stops immediately after this.

Only to return later with a very nicely drawn tree.

Hermione babbles the entire day and has to show her parents her very pretty tree.

’’Oh no they can communicate.’’

’’What do we do?’’

’’I’ve got a plan.’’

Dr Granger scoops her daughter up and holds her still, while Dr Granger writes out a few questions about this nonsense.

_ Who the hell are you and why are you writing on my daughter’s skin? _

The reply that comes sounds beyond tired:  _ I apologize in advance for this extensive answer. Give your daughter a bath to wash the ink off. _

* * *

Dr and Dr Granger find out about soulmates and magic and that their daughter is a witch. This person doesn’t want to know who she is, nor who they are, as he doesn’t want a soulmate because they’ll just complicate his life. He doesn’t stop writing to-do lists, though.

Until October 31st, 1981 when all writing ceases.

Dr and Dr Granger grimly look on and realise that this person is dead. And that it’s better off for Hermione that they spare her feelings. Being two is way too young to learn about Death.

* * *

When Hermione’s eleven Professor McGonagall winds up giving her a guided tour of Diagon Alley. On the way there Hermione talks about soulmate writings. ’’I had writings appear when I was really small. My mum’s taken some photographs of me back then so I know. But the writing stopped just as quickly. That means my soulmate died, right?’’ Hermione speaks with an air of frankness and logic that Minerva is both morbidly distraught about and thankful for. It makes explaining this much easier.

’’We had a war, Miss Granger. Terrible things happen during one.’’

’’I know.’’ Hermione nods. ’’I wish I’d gotten to know them though.’’

* * *

Harry Potter’s soulmate is a fink named Draco Malfoy who keeps drawing on his skin. Harry draws back. It’s very weird for them to finally meet in person. They’ve been doodling on each other’s skin since they were children.

Draco’s a fink, though, and Hermione’s going to punch him in the face one of these days. She gets Harry to write:  _ You’re a prick. _

He decides to apologise after this.

Hermione decides not to be the bigger person. ‘’Work harder than that. You just called me  **_slurs_ ** .’’

* * *

Whenever anyone asks her where her soulmark writings are she shrugs and tells them that her soulmate died in the War. They always cluck sympathetically. 

Harry bothers to ask what the writing was. 

‘’I don’t really remember much. When he found out I was a toddler he just drew really neat pictures on me. My mother says I found them hilarious. It was a little sweet, to be honest.’’

Harry has a dick drawn on his forehead where his scar is. Hermione points it out. 

‘’FUCKING PRICK!’’ Harry goes to wash it off. 

* * *

Ron writes to a girl named Lavender. They play tic tac toe and laugh. 

* * *

Albus Dumbledore gets ink dots on his face around May. Hermione notices it’s the same day he has duelled Grindelwald. 

* * *

It isn’t until the summer of 1995 that Hermione gets a to-do list on her hands. Her eyes are staring in disbelief. She sees a ghost come back to life. The handwriting isn’t nearly as elegant as her mother’s told her and showed her in photographs. Maybe because he has not held a pen in his hands in so many years. 

Slowly, the sensation spreads across her skin again. Hermione remembers it, distantly, faintly. It all comes back to her. 

But the writing scares her just as much as it elates her. 

_ Visit Malfoy.  _

_ Have three meals today. Not one. Not one and a half. THREE.  _

_ Soup. Mice.  _

_ Mice are for Nagini. Do not eat the mice.  _

_ Bella? _

He scratches up the last word a few times. Next to it he adds:  _ Patience _ . 

* * *

Hermione doesn’t write back. She pretends like she hasn’t seen. That to-do list gets washed off and a new one springs up. 

_ Clothes.  _

_ NEW clothes.  _

_ Books? Yes. Books.  _

_ Nagini horcrux?  _

Hermione writes, against her better judgement. She circles the word horcrux. 

Instantly, the other end of her soul bond splashes ink across his entire arm to get rid of all evidence. 

Hermione writes on her other, clean arm. It is choppy because she is not left-handed.  _ What’s a horcrux? _

He doesn’t write anything back. Nor does he write anything on his skin at all. Hermione apologizes. She does want to find out more about her soulmate. Maybe he’s very shy. 

Hermione draws a tree as an apology. It’s the best she can do. 

He draws over it. His tree is much better. Hermione huffs indignantly. 

* * *

Her parents notice Hermione writing on her skin and can’t believe what they see. They were sure their daughter’s soulmate’s died.

Hermione writes underneath the newest to-do list:  _ Hello. _

_ Dentists? _

_ They’re my parents. _

_ Of course, you’re old enough to write now. Stop communicating with me. _

Hermione has to turn her arm because the words are coiled in a ring around it. It looks like a bracelet. 

Hermione stares at these disinterested words for a whole ten minutes before writing all across the to-do list.  _ WHO ARE YOU?  _

Then she begins to fill out the space around her question, showing to her soulmate that she will be very uncooperative until he tells her his name. 

_ I am Lord Voldemort. Now goodbye. I don’t care who you are. Not to mention that I have made it plainly clear to the dentists that I want nothing to do with you. _

Hermione’s heart is beating hard. Her hands are shaking as she writes this out:  _ Is this a sick joke? _

_ Having a mudblood for a soulmate? I’ve been asking myself that the entire time. _

_ Piss off  _ _ Tom Riddle. _

The writing intensifies after this. Hermione’s entire arm is in black ink. It continues to climb over her shoulder as the man seems to frantically fill out his skin. When Hermione wakes up she finds that he’s not written anything on her face and writes:  _ A bit much? _

The reply that comes underneath:  _ Yes. _

She takes a bath and washes the ink off of her skin. The entire time she’s cursing in disbelief. Whenever a to-do list appears she crosses it out. He crosses her doodles out. This war rages just as a bigger, more apocalyptic one rages outside.

* * *

Hermione can’t look at Harry.

During History, he writes her:  _ You’re Hermione Granger? _

_ Yes. _

_ Malfoy’s told me a lot about you. _

_ Which one? _

_ Lucius. His son nagged him about you. _

_ I’m going to do my best to help Harry. _ __

_ Help him die, you mean. _ __

_? _

_ I hear he’s a parselmouth. _

_ Yes. _

_ He isn’t. _

_ Yes, he is. _

_ I haven’t the space to write on for an argument. _

_ Owl me? _

_ My condolences for your poor owl. _

* * *

Hermione’s owl wants to kill her because of the weight of the lengthy, lengthy letters that come along her usual care package from her parents. She sets them aside in favour of the sweets.

* * *

Umbridge thinks it’s a good idea to make people suffer.

Hermione’s too busy being pen pals with her soulmate to do anything about it. She wants to, but she doesn't know what exactly. She must find a way to one-up Dumbledore because Harry is not going to die. Hermione refuses to let her best friend perish because of a feud made by two old men.

_ I found out how you survived. _

_ Do tell. _

_ Dark magic. _

_ Obviously. _

_ Horcruxes. _

_ Where did you find this term? _

_ You wrote it once on your skin, remember. I finally sought out what it is. Research is delightful.  _

_ Of course you would say that. _

_ Harry’s one, isn’t he? _

_ This is not something I can talk to you about via owl or skin. _

_ Hogsmeade weekend is next week. _

And because there isn’t enough room to write anymore, he simply replies:  _ Yes _ .

* * *

To see her soulmate in person ought to feel like one of the greatest things in the world. Hermione thinks that this existential dread coiling around her throat is unwelcome.

Lord Voldemort is wearing a glamour. Hermione is wearing hers, as well. They’re meeting in the Hog’s Head. This is the first time Hermione’s stepping in it.

Of course, she’s not told Harry about her soulmate or about whom she’s meeting today. Maybe she should have.

Even through the glamour it is difficult to think of this man in front of her as anyone other than Lord Voldemort, a man who has and will kill people to achieve what he desires. Hermione notes he’s drinking cocoa and that image of him gets skewered.

It isn’t what she expects of him. He motions for her to sit down and asks her what she’ll have for a drink.

’’Um,’’ Hermione has latched her eyes on the cocoa. It has one of those tiny marshmelows in it, too. ’’I’d like a cuppa.’’

’’How positively British.’’ Mr cocoa man dares to comment. Hermione wants to take that thought back the minute he spears her with an amused glance. He is a proper legilimens, after all.

’’I looked into you.’’ He idly comments and takes a sip, watching Hermione for her reaction to that. She refuses to give it to him, only noncommittally humming as a response. On the inside, however, her heart is strangling her. ’’You may even beat my score.’’

’’It isn’t difficult.’’ Hermione has seen his scores. If she just crams and gets a proper heads up, it won't be difficult at all.

He sips his cocoa and doesn’t answer anything to that. Hermione feels like she’s insulted him. Maybe she has. ’’Could you start?’’

’’I suppose.’’ He finally deigns to meet her as an equal and not a novelty to be inspected. ’’We’re bound by fate, you and I.’

‘’It’s you who didn’t want anything to do with me, remember?’’

‘’You were a toddler, what good would fraternizing with one do me?’’ 

Hermione concedes this is fair. 

Through extensive conversation, Hermione and Voldemort reach a consensus. They shake hands.

‘’Who’s Nagini?’’

‘’I have a snake.’’

‘’Really? My parents never let me have one, but for some reason I’ve always wanted one.’’

‘’I used to draw them on you.’’ Voldemort gives her a pleased smirk. ‘’Your parents asked me not to, but you always drew these strings so I gathered you liked them.’’

‘’Huh.’’ Hermione thinks that explains a lot. ‘’Okay, well - I’ll go on and convince my side and you do the same with yours.’’

‘’My side does not need convincing, child. They do as I say.’’

Hermione scoffs. ‘’Right.  _ Sure _ .’’

‘’They  _ do _ .’’

* * *

Through the power of persuasion and the two undoubtedly most academically inclined soulmates - the second war is avoided. 


End file.
